Adrift

by J F Rogers

  Everyone applauded.

  “And there’s someone here to help us.” He gestured a bejeweled hand to me. “Fallon, would you please rise?”

  My mother nudged me.

  “Huh?”

  She jerked her head upward, urging me to rise.

  “Oh!” My face burned, and my arms trembled as I stood.

  Regent Kagan extended his arm toward me. “Fallon heals demonic fasgadair blood and returns them to gachen, isn’t that right?”

  He spoke as if I were powerful. But it wasn’t me. And my blood sometimes killed. Another thing I had no control over. But I didn’t want to get into a big discussion. I just wanted to shrink away from the eyes sizing me up. So, I gave a small nod.

  “Thank you, Fallon.”

  I dropped back into my chair, wishing I could melt into it.

  A slender man with a pointy beard rose. “I heard she could kill them too.”

  As he returned to his seat, murmurs intensified.

  A young guy in brown leather stood. “How will that help us? Can she kill a number of them at a time?” He glanced my way before returning to his seat, his eyes apologetic.

  Valid point. I can’t.

  “We need an army. The fasgadair destroyed our village,” a man in a tattered tunic said. “There are a handful of us left. We’re tradesman, not warriors.”

  “Aye!” A man with long sideburns tied into braids burst from his chair. “You must give us something stronger to go on than a little girl. ’Tis that all ye have?”

  Who was he calling a little girl?

  Kagan stood. “We are here today at Sully’s insistence to await Fallon’s arrival. We’ve complied, and I’ve no doubt her unique abilities will prove useful. But the plan hasn’t changed. We will send three separate groups: one through the mountains and two by sea. Both ships will navigate southwest. One will disembark on Notirr’s shores. The other will continue further south toward Kylemore. The three groups will reconvene at the Somalta caverns to join forces with the pech. Fallon will join my troop toward Notirr.”

  Pandemonium ensued as leaders argued amongst themselves.

  The commotion died down as if by force as a strange substance filled the air. The room grew warm and tingly. Gooseflesh broke out over my arms as a chill coursed through me. Sully stood. I hadn’t realized he was here. He remained rigid, his gray eyes wide, staring straight ahead. “In a land with no natural enemies, you war amongst yourselves. Your murderous hearts are intent only on evil. Repent! Destroy your idols! Return to your first love so God may bless you. Or face judgment.” Sully relaxed, scanning the room as if he could see, then gripped the table as he lowered himself with the care of a man befitting his advanced age.

  Whatever had filled the air was gone, replaced by a suffocating silence. Had God spoken through Sully? Some remained still, scarcely breathing, their eyes riveted on Sully, while others shifted uncomfortably.

  “Was that a prophecy?” someone asked.

  “God has spoken,” Sully said. “We must destroy the idols and return to Him.”

  Kagan, still standing, clapped in a slow, mocking way. “Well done, Sully. That was a wonderful performance. Very convincing. I wonder…are you merely attempting to delay our attack? You convinced us to await Fallon’s arrival. Now this? Will your demands never cease?” He scanned the crowd. “As the king’s regent and high priest, I cannot allow our gods to be defiled. If any zealots among you continue to insist that the only way to unite ourselves is to forsake our gods, put away our idols and sorcerers, and bend the knee to your God, we must decline. Do not expect us to respect your values if you cannot respect ours. If you respect our ways, our traditions, you may continue to take refuge here. But those who are incapable, I grant your leave.”

  Abracham cleared his throat. “I know not all of us follow the One True God…”

  Groans and murmurs erupted along the ranks.

  Abracham held up his hand. “…but I trust Sully’s prophecy. Going against God’s will by ignoring His instructions and proceeding with these plans will result in disaster. We need Him. If we want Him to go before us, we must do as He asks before attacking the fasgadair.”

  A man with a cloth wrapped around his head smacked the table. “Don’t let Sully rattle you. He’s off his head. And, as Regent Kagan pointed out, he’s an excellent performer. We must stick to the plan. We need every able body to fulfill this quest. Please don’t tell me the believers in the God of our ancestors won’t join us if we disregard this request.”

  Abracham stared the man down. “Why do you think our ancestors believed in one God? They knew. One God pulled us from the human realm to dwell here. Our ancestors were witnesses. It’s written in our annals. And evidence surrounds us. Gateways between this world and the world from which God removed us still function. And you dare to mock them? Their beliefs? You mock us for remaining faithful to one God? He is the only God. I pray none of His believers will fail to trust Him, ignore His command, and go with you.”

  The audience broke out in firm nods and grunts of approval or shaking heads and offensive remarks.

  “What is this?” Braidburn nearly toppled his chair. “Your father was ruler of Diabalta, a free city. He was not a believer in one god. Do you dare disgrace his memory by attempting to convince us one little god will save us?”

  “My father could not save himself or his people. Not by his own will. Had he served God, things might’ve been different.”

  Various snorts, expletives, and guffaws broke out around the table while others threw those people contemptuous looks.

  Braidburn remained standing, nodding toward a group of complainers. “We believed you could lead us because you held the loyalty of all the clans.” He grew louder as if fueled by the naysayers. “We believed you could unite us. You mean to tell us you’re a zealot?” He spat the word. “Was this your plan all along? To trust in a god that doesn’t exist? He can’t help us. He would have done so already. Tearing down our idols will only anger our gods and guarantee our failure.”

  The noise level increased as people spoke over one another. Abracham leaned across the table. He spoke so quietly everyone hushed to listen. “Have you forgotten?” He scanned the crowd, searching each face. He repeated the words until conversations ceased and all eyes were on him.

  Braidburn lowered himself to his seat.

  Abracham tugged his Merlin beard. “How long has it been since your fathers stopped reading and teaching from the annals? How long that you’ve forgotten our God and what He’s done for us? Do you even know our history?” He pushed himself back to full height. “We were once the mightiest race in Ariboslia. We worshiped God, and He blessed us abundantly.” He pushed his hands together as if praying and pressed them to his lips. “Do you not know?”

  Some sat rigid while others squirmed.

  Abracham paused, catching each eye in turn. “How is it you can come to trust in gods you’ve never seen? Gods with no history? Gods your forefathers invented? We’re not awaiting God’s judgment. His judgment is here. The fasgadair are God’s judgment upon us. In His infinite mercy, He’s giving us a chance to turn this losing fight around. Does it make sense to keep disobeying and dishonoring Him and expect things to change? This is our chance. He’s told us exactly what to do. If we obey, He will bless us. He will be with us. He will free us from the fasgadair.” Abracham took a deep breath. “Is it so impossible to believe we can unite once more? We are at death’s door. Our clans are devastated. Many of our loved ones are enslaved. Will you not destroy statues that can’t help us and turn to the God who can?”

  Regent Kagan smoothed his green surcoat with gold embellishments, his rings sparkling. “We’re all too familiar with the twisted views of intolerant zealots. I never took you for one, Abracham. You defame your father’s legacy. We will not destroy our gods. Look around.” He motioned to the room. “Our gods protected us. That’s why you’re all here. Bandia is the only refuge. W
hat has your God done for you? You’re the ones who lost loved ones and lands. You are the ones displaced. Our gods protected us and will continue to protect us. Think carefully. Do you really want to risk the futures of your few remaining clansmen? Do you really want to put it all in the hands of one god and a few zealots when we’re offering you a battalion and the return of your father’s lands?”

  Abracham lowered his head. Was he considering Kagan’s offer? At length, he raised his gaze just enough to meet Kagan’s. “I follow your logic. I want to unite and attack as you planned. But God’s ways are not our ways. And I cannot move forward without following Sully’s advice. I can’t convince you of God’s greatness. He will reveal Himself in due time, I’ve no doubt. But you’re right. Our numbers are dwindling. There’s little left to lose, but so much to gain if we stand united.”

  “Not for Bandia.” Regent Kagan smoothed an eyebrow. “We’ve lost nothing. We’ve merely come to your aid.”

  “Sir Kagan is right. The gods protected his people here. I must protect the few remaining among my clan,” Braidburn said. “I won’t risk angering our gods.”

  Nods and murmurs swept up the air as I sat stunned. I could see both points. And I could understand why these people couldn’t trust God. They weren’t believers. But to place their trust in their false idols, to the extent that they weren’t willing to follow the God Who’d actually spoken to them… That, I couldn’t understand.

  Cahal’s chair fell to the floor with a crash in his haste to stand. “I’ve returned from Diabalta.” His voice thundered over the din. The crowd silenced. “Na’Rycha has built an army greater than Aodan could conceive. They’re coming. They won’t stop until all of Ariboslia is theirs. The ocean and mountains won’t hold them back much longer.” He righted his chair and sat.

  “We should flee to the land in the east,” the young guy in leather said.

  “The land in the east?” multiple voices questioned.

  Another man, darker skinned with a shaved head, stood. “We know nothing of that land other than it is rumored to be selkie territory. We’ve no idea how long it would take to cross it nor what we might find when we arrive. Other vessels attempted the voyage and failed to return.”

  “’Tis our best chance to protect our race. Our chances of survival are slim if we stay.” The guy held his ground. “The mountains are passable. Na’Rycha and his army will come…particularly now that the snow has nearly melted, and she’s arrived.” He pointed at me. “Morrigan must already be aware of her presence. We must act quickly.”

  “Do you suggest we hand Bandia over to the fasgadair?” someone asked.

  “Of course not.” The vein in the guy’s neck protruded. His face reddened.

  Kagan smacked the table. “Fleeing to an unknown land which may or may not exist, from which no one has ever returned, is not an option. We have plans to meet the pech. They are a formidable army with no zealots among their ranks. The question is—do we move forward with the plan as it was previously agreed to, convene with the pech, and face this evil together? Or do we allow ourselves to be coerced into turning our backs on the gods who protected us by destroying our relics to unite and fight this battle together? Since destroying our relics is not an option, the question is this: who is going to ignore Sully’s performance and join us in battle?”

  The arguments continued well into the night. It became a debate, each side attempting to convince each person individually to switch sides. What began as a welcome distraction had become tedious. I melted into my chair, wishing to escape to my room, desperate for sleep. No one needed me here. I was nothing but a mascot for the away team. A mascot the home team wanted to steal. These people would never agree. Sadly, the number who supported Sully seemed considerably smaller and grew smaller still as the arguments continued.

  “Enough.” Kagan didn’t bother to rise. His crown was askew, and his face drooped. “Prepare to move forward with our original plan. We will finalize the preparations for our ships and depart in three days. Those who refuse to join us are welcome to go wherever they wish, but they will no longer be welcome in these lands. You have three days to choose—fight with us or seek another place to take refuge. Either way, our idols will stand. Anyone who dares raise a hand against them will face severe consequences.”

  No way would my friends go against Sully. But where would we go?

  Chapter Fifteen

  ◊◊◊

  REPLAYS OF THE ARGUMENTS resounded in my mind like a bad song. I tossed on the hard mattress, coverings twisting around my legs. How long had I lain here? Sleep. I just wanted to sleep.

  A beam of bright light blinded me. I squinted and wiped away the tears, then held my hand like a visor, shielding my eyes. My surroundings came into focus. The beach. The beach in my dreams where I’d always seen my mother. Someone stood in her place. No billowy dress or blowing hair. A man.

  I stepped forward. But, like my mother had in the dreams before, he remained the same distance away. What was this? Who stood there in my mother’s place?

  The man pivoted. He looked like… No, he couldn’t be Declan.

  A popping sound rang out on my right. The circle of swirling lights. But how? Aodan was dead. No one else had ever penetrated my mind. Was it part of the dream? Could someone else breach my mind as Aodan had with his sister? As he almost breached mine?

  One way to find out. I inched toward the swirling lights as they formed a hazy image.

  “No!”

  I jumped.

  “Stay away from him, Fallon.”

  “Declan!” I ran toward him but failed to get any closer. Then, as in the dreams past, darkness swept over the landscape, swallowing the light. I blinked, and Declan stood before me. His face morphed into a fasgadair as he lunged.

  Someone shook me. “Fallon. Wake up.”

  Flickering light swept past me, traveling next to the bed. Who woke me? Where was I? A wave of memories crashed over me. I was in Bandia sharing a room with Rowan. But that wasn’t Rowan. Groggy, I wiped my eyes.

  “From the looks of it, you were having a nightmare.” My mother lit the oil lamp, and light flooded the room.

  I groaned. What was she doing in here? What time was it? Early. Too early. My body ached. I just wanted to sleep. I’d struggled to sleep despite my exhaustion. My mind ran like the Energizer bunny.

  The hard mattress didn’t budge under Cataleen’s weight as she sat, but the covers tightened around me. I fought the urge to push her off as I adjusted myself to relieve the pressure.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

  No, I want you to go away and let me sleep. “It was nothing.” I had no interest in talking about how the bizarro dream that used to haunt me had returned, except it was Declan haunting me. And, oh yeah, the swirling lights, a sign Aodan was attempting to take over my mind, had returned. Except Aodan’s dead, so I had no idea who the culprit was this time. Unless Aodan was able to reach me beyond the grave. I shuddered.

  Then again, she’d dealt with this with Aodan. She experienced a complete takeover. He succeeded in having her harm herself, which is how she ended up in my realm to begin with. If that hadn’t happened, I never would have been born. But, if anyone would understand, she would. Should I tell her? Or would that just create another issue to contend with?

  “Get up. I’ll be back in a few minutes to bring you to the dining hall. And wake Rowan too. We need to discuss our plans since we’re no longer welcome here.”

  “Right.” Perhaps I’d talk with her another time. I yawned and closed my eyes.

  “Fallon?”

  “I’m up.” I swung my feet out from the covers and sat.

  Satisfied, my mother left the room.

  Something bugged me. Aside from the fact that I was in a strange world rooming with a girl I’d transformed from a monster, Declan was missing, and we now had no plan or allies in the war against the fasgadair. Was it Cataleen? As much as I’d
wanted to have a mother, as much as I’d envied Stacy even when Stacy was irritated with hers, I didn’t like having someone mother me. I’d grown up without one. I didn’t need one now.

  Blankets covered Rowan’s head. “Psst. You awake?”

  She freed her face. “They’re making you leave Bandia?” She slipped out of bed and moved to the door. She secured the latch and returned to bed.

  Good idea. “You mean we? Yeah.” I sat cross-legged on my bed, facing her.

  “I can’t believe they’d do that. Of Bandia’s problems, lack of hospitality has never been one.” She propped herself on one arm. Blonde waves tumbled down.

  “Sorry. I would’ve told you last night, but you’d already fallen asleep. We brought you food.” I pointed at the table by the door where the food still sat. Untouched. “I’m sure it’s bad now.”

  Rowan waved her hand. “I’m not hungry.” She laid her head back on the pillow.

  When was the last time she ate? How was she not starving?

  “When are we leaving?” she asked. “Where will we go?”

  “Good question. Kagan—I mean, Regent Kagan gave us three days to prepare. In the meantime, I’m headed to breakfast. Want to join us?”

  She shook her head and rolled over.

  ****

  After breakfast, I walked outside to get fresh air. Something about the castle stifled me, despite its enormous rooms and windows. I had no desire to hang out with Rowan, and she refused to leave. And I had even less interest in subjecting myself to the agony of listening to the leaders deliberate. So far, they were getting nowhere. We had two options: meet with the pech despite Kagan or to flee to the unknown lands to the east. Both were bad ideas, and I had nothing valuable to add. I’d settle for the CliffsNotes from my mother later.